Agoraphobia and Then Some
by wickedglee
Summary: There are many different fears out in the world. Some of them take hold of a person's life and never lets go. But what if you found yourself trapped in an elevator with your worst enemy? Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez are about to find out. Takes place during New York and continues from there.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, unless otherwise stated. I don't own Glee or any songs that may be used in this.

A/N: Main pairing is Pezberry, but will feature other characters and everyone else from in the glee club. This takes place during New York; therefore anything up until that point could be considered spoilers in the story. Any bashing on characters in this story is strictly for artistic purposes, and the fact that you can't have a fanfic with Santana involved without some bashing. There are mentions of mental illnesses in here, so if that's a trigger warning for you please don't read. Honestly don't know where the inspiration for this came from but hope you guys enjoy it!

* * *

Hell. This is the only word that could ever describe the situation Santana found herself in now. She had been through many different trials and tribulations in her lifetime. The ups and downs of her sexuality crisis, confessing her love for Brittany only to be rejected for a handicapped wannabe gangster, and dealing with Mr. Shuester and his obsession with Journey every day, were just a few things on that list.

Being stuck in an elevator for hours with Rachel 'I'm Better than Everyone' Berry, who was at the moment pacing the floor and hyperventilating into an imaginary paper bag, now took the top spot on that list.

Santana shook her thoughts away as she realized Rachel's lips were now moving—something that hadn't took place in over an hour. It was extremely uncharacteristic of the other girl not to be a bundle of words, so Santana figured it would probably be a good idea to hear what she was saying. She was wrong.

"I'm going to grow old in here. I'm never going to be on Broadway, much less playing roles made for me like Maria or Fanny. I'll never win the Tony or be featured in the New York Times. Finn will move on, probably with a pretty blonde, and I'll just be that girl with the incredible voice who got lost in an elevator, never to be heard from again," Rachel stammered out in between breathes of air.

That was it. Santana had dealt with the annoying yelling out for help, the loud beating on the elevator door, and the annoying little pacing Rachel had done, but she was not about to let Rachel get away with taking away all her air with her need for rambling on like a mad woman.

"Hey," Santana began, snapping her fingers to get the brunette' attention, "listen up. Sit your tiny, white ass down. I refuse to listen to that mouth of yours anymore. It doesn't look like helps coming anytime soon, so I'd like to get my nap on. I can't do that with you acting like the Apocalypse just happened."

"How can you sit there and be so calm! We have been stuck in here for God knows how long, and no one has come to our rescue. I can't take this, Santana. I just can't. I hate being in tight places. I hate the feeling that I have no control over my life. And worst of all, I have to pee."

Glaring at the girl like she had just grown a second head, Santana threw her hands up. She had no idea how to even touch on any of those subjects. So she did what she always did. She flipped the switch on to her cold side and turned all her frustration on the diva.

"First off, I am only going to tell you this one last time. Sit your ass down. Second off, I'm calm because death by elevator is not on my approved list of deaths for me. Let's think for a second, how many people have you heard of dying from being trapped in an elevator? Car accidents, airplane crashes, drowning, heart attacks, sure. But dying in an elevator? I don't think so. Third off, that's just gross. I would appreciate it if you'd keep your bathroom habits to yourself. It gives me mental images, and I don't think you want the odor of my vomit wafting up the elevator."

Rachel open and closed her mouth a few times before sliding down the elevator wall next to Santana. A moment of silence passed between them before Rachel seemed to find the proper words to say. "You are right. I'm being irrational. I'm sure we will be found soon enough. I mean Finn has to be wondering where I'm at. It won't be long before the firemen open the doors. Also, I'd like to apologize for my rude comment about having to use the toiletry. I seem to forget my manners whenever I'm in a state of panic."

"Can it Barbs. I'm not interested in anything you have to say anymore. It's sleep time," Santana stated flatly, laying down on the floor and propping her jacket under her head. "I'd also suggest you'd move away from me. I'm still pissed the hell off at you for making us lose nationals all on the account that you wanted to get your freak on with Gravy Pants. I don't think you want Snix to come out and play."

Again, Rachel looked as if she wanted to say something, but quickly took Santana's advice and closed her mouth. Santana took this as a sign that the ranting and raving was over, and took full advantage of this rare moment. Closing her eyes, she soon found herself thinking back to how all this started.

* * *

_3 hours earlier_

To say the least, Santana was livid. How could they have been so stupid? All their hard work thrown down the drain, just so Finn could pull the dumbest move in the history of show choir. She knew that technically it wasn't Rachel's fault for what happened, but she couldn't control her emotions at the moment and she snapped.

Pushing the elevator button a little harder than necessary, she winced at the pain shooting through her arms. There was no recollection of what she had even said, but it must have been pretty bad if half the glee club had to hold her back. Bruises would probably end up showing up her arms, but it was her own fault. Over the years she had never really grasped the concept of letting things roll off her shoulders. She just had so much anger built up, most at herself for hiding like a coward, and eventually it just flew out at whoever got in her way.

Today it had been Berry. Tomorrow, who knew?

Santana pushed herself from the wall, watching as the elevator doors slide open. She was halfway inside when that irritating voice that had haunted her for almost two years hit her ears. It was an immediate reaction when she slammed the closed door button. But it was too late. Rachel had somehow already managed to make in inside before the doors slammed. How come tiny people were so damn fast?

"I believe you are lost Troll."

Rachel ignored Santana's insult and jumped right into her response. "No, I'm not. I followed you here; despite the rude names you called me. I don't yet know what they are, and I apologize for my lack of knowledge on the Spanish language. I can assure you though that once we are home I will find a Spanish/English dictionary and look up exactly what it is you said to me."

"Does this have a p-," her words were suddenly interrupted by a quick jerk of the elevator. The lights began to flash, and it seemed like they had stopped all movement.

Santana knew right away what was going on. She had seen enough horror movies featuring people trapped in elevators. A moment of fear passed through her, before she swiftly began to hit the buttons laid out in front of her.

Nothing. It was dead. They were trapped.

Her heart was beating out of her chest, but she tried to remain calm. One of them had to, and feeling Rachel tense up beside her only confirmed her conclusion that it had to be her.

"What is happening? Are we being punked? Is some masked serial killer about to pop out of the roof and kill us? I don't believe in deluding one's mind with horror films, but I know a scary situation when I see one, and this is the definition of a scary situation. I'm too young to die, Santana!" Rachel was all but screaming as she latched onto her companion's arm.

Santana was fast to push the girl off of her, as she reached for the emergency phone. "Will you shut up? No one is coming to kill us. And here's an idea—why don't you learn to speak like you are from this century?"

The phone didn't work. Of course it didn't. Santana knew with her luck it wouldn't be that easy to get out of this. Misunderstood, rejected, and now stuck in an elevator with the one person that she hated more than anything. The universe was truly testing her.

"Maybe you didn't do it right," Rachel suggested, looking down at the phone in Santana's hand.

"What the hell do you mean? I'm not stupid. I know how to work a phone. They are just cheap fuckers. How can a hotel this fancy not have working phones in the elevator?" Slamming the phone back into place, she leaned back against the elevator wall.

That's when Rachel decided to start her pacing and rather odd breathing exercise. Santana had no clue what to do, but one thing was for sure; if Rachel didn't calm the hell down, she'd kill her. She had never contemplated murder before, only slightly major physical violence, but then again she had never been in such close quarters with an apparently claustrophobic Rachel Berry.

If she had only known exactly how long Rachel would pace, she would have followed through with her plan.

* * *

_Present Time_

Santana had no idea how much time had passed since she first closed her eyes. All she knew was she was exhausted, but the hard floor made it impossible to sleep. Rachel's quiet whimpers could be heard throughout the elevator, almost like they were bouncing off the walls. She was unsure how long the girl had been crying, but it just now became noticeable to her.

It's not like she wasn't internally freaking out. She was. In fact, it took everything inside of her not to completely lose it. But the way Rachel was acting, well it just didn't make sense to her. Sure, people had fears of elevators. The reasons were kind of obvious—that didn't excuse whatever was going on with Rachel.

Reluctantly Santana sat up, giving Rachel a look of indifference, before asking the one thing that had been on her mind since they got stuck. "What is your problem?"

"What do you mean? I don't have a problem?" The lights were barely lite up now, but Santana could tell that Rachel was frantically wiping at her eyes.

"You obviously do. I mean being stuck in an elevator sucks, but it's not the end of the world. Yet, ever since it quite moving you have been more of an emotional basket case. Why?"

"It's stupid."

"Spill it Berry, before I change my mind and go back to ignoring you."

Nervously playing with her hands, Rachel began a debate in her head. On one side, there really was no harm in telling Santana where this irrational fear stemmed from. On the other hand, Santana had been nothing but evil to her. Name calling, slushie attacks, you name it. It seemed kind of silly to release information to the one person who tortured you on a daily basis. In the end, Rachel decided it was best to have conversation flowing than to be stuck with nothing but her thoughts.

Rachel let a small sigh slip from her lips before divulging into her past, "Growing up, my cousins use to come over to play all the time. Their favorite game was hide and seek. I loved it too, seeing as I was a rather adventurous child…"

At this, Santana rolled her eyes, but motioned with her hand for Rachel to continue on.

"Anyway, I believe I was around the age of nine when it happened. My cousin, Emily, was a few years older than me, but for some reason she still loved to play with us younger kids. Well, it was my cousin's, David, turn to seek. Emily suggested that I go with her to hide. I fell for it. She tricked me into hiding into an old trunk that was in my fathers' room. I wasn't in there for a few seconds before I got scared and tried to get out. But she had locked me inside of it. It didn't take very long for David to find me and let me out, but I never forgot the feeling of being stuck. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced. I had convinced myself that I was going to die inside that trunk. Told you it was stupid," Rachel finished with a sad chuckle as she wiped away the remaining tears that had leaked down her face.

Santana didn't know why, but she could feel her blood boiling. This was not okay. She had done some cruel things in her life, but nothing like that.

"What a bitch. Did she get in trouble?"

"No, I never told anyone. I'm not exactly sure why. I guess it was my fear of being left alone. Growing up without any brothers or sisters was never something I wanted to accept. There were nights when I'd sit up all night praying that my fathers' would have another child. Even if that meant I would have to share their love and the spotlight."

This was not the Rachel Berry that she was used to seeing. Santana glanced over at her, taking a moment to gather in her appearance. Knees bent to her chest, hands shaking as they ran over the hem of her dress. She looked so vulnerable, so broken. It made Santana feel sorry for her—something she never thought she'd admit, even if it was just to herself.

"You should have punched her. Then stole her candy on Halloween."

This statement elicited a small giggle from the tinier girl, causing Santana to smile, even if she did turn her head in fear of getting caught by Rachel. As she turned back around, she noticed Rachel shivering out of the corner of her eye. This action would probably be something she'd regret later on, but what the hell. Grabbing her jacket she tossed it at Rachel.

"What is this for?"

"You're shivering. I figured you were cold and could use it."

A sly smile crossed over Rachel's face as she slide the jacket on. "Thank you, Santana. That's very kind of you."

Yep, she regretted it. "Don't get your panties in a wad. I just didn't need you complaining about it being cold along with all the other shit."

"It's your turn."

Santana raised an eyebrow, turning her head slowly in question.

"I revealed something about myself that I've never told anyone. Now it's your turn to do the same."

"Hell no, Man Hands. Sorry to burst your bubble, but I don't play games." Santana instantly regretted her words, especially the stupid nickname Quinn had come up with. She never understood why she was like this. The minute anyone wanted into her personal world, she closed up and acted harshly toward them. It had always been that way.

If Rachel took offense to the name calling, she didn't show it. "Can I ask you a question then?"

"You have ten seconds before I change my answer to no."

"Why Finn? Why sleep with him when you knew that I cared for him?"

That was it. The million dollar question that everyone wanted to know, yet she had no answers for them; at least answers that she was willing to give up.

"Cause I'm a bitch."

"That's not true."

"You know nothing about me."

"I know enough to know that the person you pretend to be and the person you actually are, are two different people."

Damn Berry and her way with words. Santana hated how unprotected she felt in that moment, She wanted to yell at Rachel, scream in her face, and make her never want to speak a word to her again. But she couldn't, because the girl was right. All her life she had worn a mask, one that hide all of her feelings inside like a dam holding back water. Well, Rachel had somehow managed to break that damn down and the water was fixing to start a flood.

"Fine, you want answers? Well here it is," Santana pushed herself off the floor before continuing, "I slept with Finn because I'm gay. I like girls. A lot actually. More than I could ever like a boy. It doesn't make sense to me why I decided to sleep with Puck or Finn, but I did it because I didn't want people to find out. During that time, I could care less about your feelings for him. I have and always will look out for myself first."

Rachel laughed. She actually laughed. Who the hell did she think she was? Was she honestly being judged right now by an overdramatic midget?

"What the hell is so funny? You of all people should understand. I thought you were carrying around a big, gay flag having two dads and all," Santana yelled, throwing her hands up in the air.

The laughter ceased, and Rachel gave Santana an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Santana. I didn't mean to offend you by laughing, but I can assure you that I didn't mean it the way it seemed. Growing up with dad and daddy has taught me to be accepting of everyone, and I am. It's just…I believe everyone already knows that about you. You see, it's not that hard to tell judging by the way you look at Brittany. Anyone with a pair of eyes could figure that out. So I found it humorous that you did promiscuous things in order to hide this side of you that everyone already knew."

Santana had never wanted to punch someone more in her life than in this moment. How dare Rachel say she already knew this? And could that even been true? She was almost positive that she had kept all of those tendencies to a minimal. Sure, she looked at Brittany in certain ways. It was hard not to, but was it really that obvious? It was now Santana's turn to pace the floor as a million thoughts ran through her head.

"Santana, please calm down. You are acting ridiculous. It's not that big of a deal."

Turning toward Rachel, she could hardly believe the things she was hearing. "How can you say that?! Here I thought I was being sneaky about it, but it's only a matter of time before people start talking about me. And then I'll have to kill someone, landing me in a jail cell. I may be badass, but I sure the hell can't handle some of those women in there and I refuse to be anyone's bitch."

It had only been a minute or so and Rachel already regretted even opening this can of worms. Everyone knew that once Santana got on a roll it was nearly impossible to slow her down. But being Rachel Berry, she refused to let Santana go down any kind of destructive path. She slowly stood up, grabbing a hold of Santana's shoulders, and stopping her in her place.

"You calmed me down, a little violently but you still did, and I plan on doing the same for you. No one is going to judge you inside of glee club. That's who I was talking about knowing. All the other idiots of McKinley are too wrapped up in their own world to notice who you look at in a certain way. And I know I'm just some over talented loser to you, but for what it's worth I don't judge you."

Taking a moment to mull these words over, Santana searched Rachel's eyes, finding nothing but sincerity in them. It's not like she actually cared what Rachel thought about her. She was indeed a loser after all, but knowing she had at least one person on her side took the sting off a little. Sliding down the wall, she slumped back down on the floor and rested her head against the wall.

She muttered a small 'fine', as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Yet again she couldn't help, but wonder what she had done to offend the universe so bad that it felt the need to continue on its journey of testing her.

Rachel must have lost her damn mind, because within seconds she was sitting next to Santana, resting her head on the girl's shoulder like they had been best friends for years. Santana's body froze, as she felt Rachel nuzzle her head further into the curve of her neck.

Yeah, the universe hated her.

"Santana, can I ask you something else?" Rachel's voice was barely audible, and it was apparent she was on the brink of exhaustion. Her movements were another indicator of how tired she was, as she draped the jacket around both of them.

"What is it?" Santana was too exhausted herself to push Rachel off her, much less put up a fight against the diva's questions.

"What if Finn decides I'm not good enough for him again, and runs back to Quinn?" Santana used what effort she had left to roll her eyes.

"You are really that worried over a boy who looked like he swallowed the bus we came here on? Really, Rachel you need to get over whatever obsession you have on him."

"I'm not obsessed," she protested. "I love him, I really do. But mostly I just don't want to be alone. Everyone thinks I'm obsessed and maybe I am obsessed over the idea of being alone, but not over him. If you haven't noticed, and I'm sure you have, guys don't exactly go for girls like me. They prefer pretty girls like you and Quinn."

Santana could feel the color start to rise in her cheeks at Rachel's complement, and she had never been gladder in her life that Rachel couldn't see her. That would have been an embarrassment on a whole new level. "Listen, I know the whole being alone thing sucks. But join the club. People stay single all the time. It's just the way life works. You either can mop about it all your life, or get the hell over it. I don't know about you, but the mopping look just doesn't fly with me."

"I guess you are right. But what if he's the one for me?"

"Please, that lump of ham hocks and pinto beans is not the one for you," Santana let out a deep breathe. "What I'm about to say does not leave this elevator? If I find out it does I will go ten different shades of Lima Heights on your Jewish ass, got it?"

All Rachel could do was nod her head in understanding.

"You are one of the most talented people I know. If anyone is getting out of this hick town it's you. Your voice is like the Titanic and Finn is an anchor. Pretty soon he's going to drag you down, causing you to crash into an iceberg. That's just the cold hard truth, and as unrealistic as it may seem, you will one day be thanking me for this advice."

Rachel raised her head, giving Santana one of the brightest smiles she could muster. "See, you are not a b-word. You care about people, no matter how much you want to deny it."

She wanted to put a stop to this accusation and fast, but the feel of Rachel's arm moving around her waist and her head falling back into its previous place rendered her speechless. There was nothing left to do but to allow the much needed sleep to take her.

As she closed her eyes, three things became apparent to her. The first being that whatever shampoo Rachel used smelled amazing. The second was the fact that Rachel Berry was not as terribly unbearable as everyone thought. The final was probably the most difficult to wrap her head around, but she seemed to have suddenly found a religious spark inside of her, as she sent a silent prayer up to God, asking him to help them out of this hellhole they seemed to have fallen into.

* * *

A/N: Well, here's the first chapter. I plan on continuing this story. I kind of already know where it's going but suggestions are always welcomed. I don't need reviews to continue but if you like it or dislike it or have anything at all you'd like to say feel free! I'll have the next chapter up soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Plain and simple truth is I own nothing.

A/N: Okay. First let me start by saying I am sorry. A ton of personal issues came up and then they kept coming and then college and I just had no spare time at all. But now I do, so I am going to keep this story going and I promise this time it will be updated frequently. I also kind of lost my love in writing for a while so I really hope this chapter is okay. I was so blown away by the amazing reviews and all the favs and follows. Thank you so much! And again I am sorry.

* * *

Santana Lopez had officially lost her ever loving mind. Her lips were planted firmly on Rachel's; her hands on the smaller girl's... where were her hands? Santana's mind was too far gone now to even fathom where the hell they were at. On her waist? Yeah, that sounded right.

All she knew was that Rachel tasted like strawberries mixed with sunshine. Wait, what the actual fuck was she sitting here thinking? Faster than a knife fight in a phone booth, Santana pushed Rachel away from her and was now currently standing in the corner of the room.

"No, Hell has not frozen over yet and that is the only time I would ever in a trillion years kiss you, Berry," she said.

Rachel's eyes were wide open, a look of indifference was painted all over her face. For a split second Santana thanked her lucky stars that Rachel was smart enough not to make some over the top dramatic statement about the lip lock. It's not like it was even a big deal. Friends kissed each other all the time. Wait? Friends? As Santana rubbed the bridge of her nose at how screwed up the whole ordeal was, Rachel went off like a firecracker.

Santana had never needed a straight shot of whiskey more then precise moment.

* * *

_Two Hours Earlier_

Rachel was the first one out of the sleeping duo who arose from their slumber. It took her a moment to remember where she was at, but the warmth radiating off the body next to her made the fog evaporate. Rachel let her eyes linger over Santana, longer than necessary.

To Rachel, Santana took the rank of being the prettiest girl at McKinley. Quinn, of course, was right up there with her, but there was just something about Santana that put her an ounce above the rest of the competition. Being in such close quarters together helped Rachel realize what she never had before, mostly due to the fact that up until a few hours ago Rachel had been earth shattering afraid of Santana.

Santana 'Snix' Lopez had a loving soul.

Those words would never roll off the tip of Rachel's tongue, but that was okay. What did it matter if the rest of the world got to witness what Rachel had? In a way, them not knowing this top secret information made her feel bubbly inside, special.

"Berry, if you don't get your beady eyes off of me I will gouge them out with a spork the second those doors open," Santana mumbled.

Rachel jumped back in surprise but instantly recovered. "I must confess that though your threats are offensive and frankly bone chilling, they are indeed witty and creative."

Santana sat up and sighed, opting not to give Rachel the satisfaction of a logical reply. "I am bored."

"Yes. I am not sure of the accurate time, but judging from the mental time clock I have perfected in my head, right about now is when I would be stationed in my living room with a tall glass of milk, organic of course, with Dad and Daddy playing Candy Land."

"Ah, fucking hell. I swear one day I am going to record you, tie you up and force you to listen to yourself talk non-stop. Maybe then you will realize the hell you put other people through every time you open your mouth."

Rachel bit her lip in an attempt to hide the hurt that Santana's statement had landed. And to think just five minutes ago she was bragging (mentally) about how Santana's heartless persona was false. However, Rachel knew that both of them had been put in a very stressful situation, rendering Santana to lash out more than usual. She just had to think of a way to get Santana to open her pages back up.

Then an idea hit her.

"I have a brilliant idea. Would you like to play a game?" She asked.

Santana raised her eyebrow. "We quoting Saw now?"

Rachel looked as confused as Santana figured she would, but also saw the slight shake of her head. "No, of course not. I do not believe in watching horror films. It warps the mind. That's how serial killers became created."

Santana rolled her eyes. "You said that earlier. What are you on about then?"

"I thought we could play twenty one questions, seeing as you are bored and despite how horrendous this situation may be, it gives us the perfect opportunity to learn new and exciting things about each other." Rachel was practically up on her knees, and Santana wished she could drift back off to sleep.

It would be a lie though if she said she wasn't interested in knowing what made Rachel the way she was. No one was like her, not that anyone would really complain about that. The spark of curiousity got the better of Santana this time. Then again curiousity did kill the cat.

"Fine, but if you get weird on me I am out." Santana had barely got the sentence out of her mouth and Rachel squealed.

"Yay! This is so exhilarating." She latched onto Santana's arm but let go just as fast and began to nervously play with the ends of her hair. "I mean, okay. Cool. You go first."

"Shit," Santana said, tossing her hands up in the air slightly. "I don't know. What's your favorite color?"

Rachel looked disappointed but went on. "Pink, obviously for many reasons. I have always considered myself to be a very feminine person, though I do not encourage people to set gender norms. I think that everyone should be able to make their own choices and not feel tied down by the bonds of a cruel, judgemental world. If a girl wants to play football? Let her! I say we join hands, stand proudly on that sideline and cheer her on. But by the views of our nation's society, that is one of the reasons why I like the color pink. I do not understand the world though. So what if a boy likes to play with dolls? The parents should be proud to hold his hand and walk down the toy aisle of Wal-Mart and sa-"

Rachel's words were muffled as she struggled against Santana's hand. "Yes or no when the question calls for it. No more than one sentence on the others. Got it?"

Rachel slowly nodded her head and Santana removed her hand. After thirty seconds of Santana staring intently at her, Rachel caught on.

"Oh right, my turn. What to ask? What to ask? Hmmm...what did you want to be when you were younger?" This to Rachel was as useless as the question Santana had asked, but she needed her first question to be simple. That way if she got into the more personal questions, hopefully Santana wouldn't catch on to what she was trying to accomplish.

Well that was easy enough. "A pimp, duh."

"You can't possibly be serious..."

"What's wrong with that? Money, cars, bitches, a cane. Easy life."

Rachel tried her hardest to wrap her head around Santana's answer but came up short. "How on God's green Earth did you even know what a pimp was at that age? I only just learned what one was last year. Finn and I were out in town and one approached about making money. I found it strange, but chalked it up to the conclusion that my talent glows off of me, and with one glance this nice man must of recognized it. Then Finn explained that it wasn't my voice he wanted but rather my... throat. I ended up giving him a dollar for his effort."

"You learn a lot at a young age if you grew up where I did," she replied, ignoring Rachel's story for obvious reasons. "My turn. Why do you try so hard to fit in?"

Great, Rachel had been the one to set this up, only to be the contestant to answer the hard hitting questions. "I try so hard because I honestly think I am a lot more than people give me credit for, but no one else sees me that way and it's so frustrating, and that's why I went after Finn because not only is he charming and somewhat of a gentleman, he is the quarterback, and if I could land the quarterback then I knew that people would start to see me in a new light, but that plan failed and everyone just started to slushie him also, so now I resort to drastic measures just to make everyone realize that Rachel Berry is more than just a future Broadway sensation, but it seems like no one will ever take two quick seconds out of their busy lives just to take a look at what I have to offer the entire student body of McKinley, but most of all, beyond any of that, I just want people to respect me the way they respect you."

Santana blinked. Then she blinked again. "What even? How did you get all of that out in one breath?"

"Oh. Years and years of breathing classes, and then voice and singing lessons also touch on the subject. You told me to minimize it to one sentence and I did."

Leave it to Rachel to find a loop hole around everything.

"Again what I am about to say does not leave this room but Berry stop trying to fit in with everyone else. Nobody at that school even has an fucking brain, so they aren't going to care if you are the best singer in Ohio or the world. The only way you are going to get popular is if you sell your soul to Sue Sylvester and spend the majority of your time on your back and knees. That's not the kind of life you want."

"But you do it?"

"Because you are stronger than me."

This seemed to shut Rachel up, and Santana couldn't be happier with that result. All of this was giving her a headache. When Rachel still didn't say anything, Santana waved her hand impatiently. "Go."

"Oh, um." Rachel knew this was a big mistake but it was too late to turn around. "How long have you known you liked girls?"

Santana wanted to punch her for the tenth time that day. When Rachel first suggested this game, Santana just figured it was so the other girl could keep her mind busy as they waited around. That question made Santana suspect there was more to this. Like Rachel was using a simple party game to get her to talk about her feelings and shit. If Rachel wanted to play games then she'd play.

"I don't really know. I guess when I was in sophomore year. I mean obviously there were signs before that, but I blocked them out. It wasn't until I joined the glee club that I realized I couldn't deny it anymore. The first time you opened your mouth and that stunning voice of yours hit my ears, I melted. That's when I knew I was officially in love with one Rachel Berry. That and every single time I saw you wearing a plaid skirt images of your legs wrapped around me as I fucked you on top of the piano would flood my mind."

The elevator was dead quiet for a moment, but the noise coming out of Rachel's mouth began to bounce off its walls. It was a mixture between a cough and a gargle. Santana lost it.

"Why are you laughing like that?" Rachel questioned, and Santana swore she was pouting.

Once the hysterical laughter had calmed down Santana answered, "Because the look on your face, and the freakin' demonic noise that came out of your mouth. Holy shit Berry, you are so gullible."

Rachel furrowed her brows. "So you weren't being serious?"

Santana looked at her like the patrons of that dinner looked at Meg Ryan when she faked that orgasm in When Harry Met Sally. "Of course not. Only in your dreams would any of what I said be true."

"That's not funny."

"You are right. It's not funny. It's hilarious."

The movement that Santana caught out of the corner of her eye told her that Rachel was seriously pissed. Rachel proped herself on the wall opposite of Santana, turned her head, and refused to face her.

"Please do not speak to me for at least an hour and a half."

"Oh come on. It was a joke. A joke like ha ha where you go ha ha?" Santana didn't even know why she was bothering. The fact that Rachel was keeping her distance should have made her want to reneacte those douchebags from Jersey Shore- jumping up in the air and fist pumping. Truth was she missed the feel of Rachel's body next to her.

The lack of oxygen was greatly doing major damage to her brain cells.

* * *

"It has been an hour and a half. You may now speak to me."

It freaked Santana out how Rachel knew the exact time; it was just another thing that made Rachel, well Rachel. All she knew was that ninety minutes had felt like an eternity.

"Look, I don't say this a lot but I am sorry." Santana watched as Rachel once again got up and took her former place next to her.

"I forgive you, San."

"Don't call me San."

"I am sorry, Santana."

Rolling her eyes at Rachel was shaping up to be a habit. This time though she did it more for the pleasure of having something to do than actual annoyance. "It's cool. We are going die in this room together. Mine as well be civil."

"Die?" Rachel seemed to be muttering the word more to herself than to Santana.

The way Rachel said it made Santana's insides churn. What had she just done?

Rachel could feel the air literally leave her body, and she placed one hand to her throat as it tightened up. The room was a blur to her, spinning around and around. Someone's voice was saying her name over and over again, but she was too far lost in a state of panic to respond. They were going to die in here. Flashes of when she was a child came back; being locked away inside that dark box.

For moment Santana thought Rachel was faking whatever was happening to her. It would be cruel but a good way to get back at her for the prank she pulled earlier. Rachel rocked back and forth, her knees pulled up to her chest, and Santana knew this was no joke.

But what the hell was she suppose to do?

Seeing someone that distraught freaked her out. Could someone die from a panic attack? Hell she wasn't a nurse so how would she know. If she let Rachel die then she'd never hear the end of it from that giant diaper wearing man baby.

Suddenly a movie popped into her head. The name slipped her but she remembered watching it with Brittany. The plot was stupid, pointless and boring as hell, but the main actress was hot as sin so Santana semi paid attention to it. A similar situation had taken place and the guy snapped the girl out of it by... oh shit.

No. Just no.

Rachel seemed to be getting worse by the minute. Not only was she still rocking, but had also started mumbling something incoherent. Looked like Santana had no choice.

"I swear if you stalk me after this Berry I will bury you alive." Rachel clearly couldn't comprehend the threat but it made Santana feel slightly more secure.

With her hands placed firmly on both sides of Rachel's face, Santana dived in, placing her lips against Rachel's.

Nothing. Nothing at all happened. It was like someone pushed the pause button on the remote. Then all at once Rachel's body seemed to collapse from it's former state, no longer stiff against Santana's.

Their lips moved in unison against each other and all Santana could think about was how humorous it was that Berry tasted like strawberries.

* * *

_Present Time_

"Oh my stars. Oh my Barbra!" Rachel clung onto Santana, who was too bewildered to even push her off. "I kissed a girl. I kissed a girl and I liked it."

Santana snapped her fingers, drawing Rachel's eyes up to her own. "Stop right there, Katy. In no way, shape, or form are you ever allowed to say that sentence again when it is referring to me. You didn't like it and I sure as fuck didn't."

If Rachel heard the words Santana spoke, she didn't show it. Lucky for Santana though, she no longer had her in a death grip and was once again back to her pacing. "This changes everything."

"This changes nothing."

"My whole life has been a lie."

"Your whole life has not been... actually yeah. That's probably true."

Rachel stopped in the middle of the floor like some type of force field was blocking her path. "What if this is the reason why I have such an admiration for Barbra? What if all this time it was not just a platonic love for her, but yet my lesbianism shining through the surface, only for me to bury it once more into the deep dark abyss of my psyche? That instead of an inspirational singer who I one day wanted to be, Barbra is really a desirable woman to me. A desirable woman whose body I want."

"Oh my God!" Santana gagged. "That is the most disgusting thing I have ever heard in my seventeen years on this planet." Santana could feel Rachel's eyes glued to her once more. "What?"

"Santana, I need you to kiss me again. Maybe even this time with tongue. It's the only way I can know for sure what is going on."

How the hell did she always find herself in these situations? Regardlessof of how much she disliked Rachel, Santana was a realistic person. She knew that Rachel had been sheltered all her life, anyone with two eyes could see that. It made sense that Rachel would take something like this and question the means of the universe and back. Technically it was her fault, so technically she should be the one to fix it.

She sighed as she walked over to Rachel and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Rachel, first off I am never kissing you again. Second, it didn't mean anything. You were in some freaky trance and I did it to make sure you didn't like die or some shit. You were totally out of it and that's why you kissed me back. Nothing more than me just assuming that kissing you would be better than me bitch slapping you across the elevator."

After a minute of Rachel tossing everything Santana had said around in her head, she finally seemed to shimmer down. "Though I do love the drama that a good B slap brings to the stage, I appreciate you wanting to perseve my face and not potentially damage my chances of stardom." Rachel nodded her head before going on. "You are right, of course. Who was I kidding? I have a boyfriend and I shared a few passionate moments with Puck. Technically Blaine too, but I was drunk then."

"That is the perfect example! Though Blaine was drunk when he kissed you, he still questioned his sexuality. But the truth of the matter is kissing a girl didn't make Blaine straight just like you kissing a girl doesn't make you gay."

Rachel wrapped her arms around Santana, throwing Santana off of her game but she awkwardly patted Rachel on the back in return. "Thank you Santana. You are a great friend."

Santana wanted to correct her on her word choice but figured that would open up another can of worms. How many melt downs was Rachel up to now? Five?

"You can let go now." Rachel obeyed her and dropped her arms before stepping back. "But it's cool. Now if you start having reoccurring dreams about threesomes with Peneolope Cruz and Beyonce like I do, then maybe you can question your sexuality."

"Is that your way of letting me down by saying you are not into white girls?"

Santana just stared at her. Rachel stared back. The elevator doors swung open.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Glee is not mine nor any characters or songs used during the course of this story.

A/N: So I posted this note on my other fanfic, but it applies to this one also so I am just going to copy and paste it. First I would like to say that I, much like many many others, was completely devastated by the news of Cory. I woke up and felt like someone had told me one of my friends died, so if I felt that way and have never even met him, then I can't begin to imagine how the people who did know him feel. Therefore I would just like to say that all my thoughts and prayers go out to his family, friends, Lea, everyone at Glee, fans, and just anyone who was hurt because of this. Second, I want to say that I honestly didn't think I could continue writing anything Glee related but then I realized that I don't think Cory would want any of us to give up on what we love doing. I can't say for sure what he would want because I didn't know him personally, but I just feel in my heart that I should keep writing. With that being said, I do not plan on changing anything I had in store for this story. Finn will still be present because I feel like Cory's memory should still be kept alive through this character. Third, any name calling or bashing on Finn is in no way shape or form how I feel about Cory and honestly about Finn because he has always been my favorite characters from the start. It is just strictly for the sake of the story and keeping it realistic. I apologize for the long author's note but I just wanted to address this with my readers. I hope that the entire fandom can come together and support each other during this tragic time. Rest in peace, Cory. You are in our hearts and you will always be missed. Also thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows. They really do mean a lot.

* * *

The first person Santana's eyes landed on was Finn Hudson. Of course. What made her think he wouldn't come barging in like he saved the day? When he wrapped Rachel up in a hug, Santana rolled her eyes and clapped her hands.

"Way to go Tubbster. Where were you hours ago? We really could have used you to ram the elevator doors down with your giant rhino ass."

"Santana lay off him!" That was the first time she had even noticed Mr. Shuester standing there, the rest of the glee club and a few of the hotel employees behind him.

"What? I am sorry that I am a tad bit stressed over the fact that I was enclosed with the blabbering Jew while you masturbated to Faithfully." She knew it wasn't anyone else's fault, but it felt good to finally stick it to the man.

Mr. Shuester's mouth opened and closed while the rest of the club awkwardly looked around at each other. Rachel moved passed Finn, placing her hand on Santana's arm in a comforting manner. The other girl quickly shrugged it off and turned her attention back to her teacher when he finally found his voice.

"Santana that was extremely uncalled for and despite that you just went through an ordeal I am going to have to punish you fo-"

"Save it," she said as she moved passed him. "You can ground me later, pops."

Mr. Shue frowned and looked around to everyone else for help. They all just shrugged.

Either it was bad lighting or her eyes were playing tricks on her, but Santana could have swore Quinn smirked at her when she walked by. The glare that she shot back at her teammate was deadly, but it didn't cause Quinn's knowing look to falter. It made her heartbeat speed up in fear of the power that everyone knew Quinn Fabray held when their secrets were known to her. But there was no way she knew about the kiss, so she continued on before stopping a few feet away from the group.

"Puckerman follow me now," she crossed her arms, challenging him to disobey her request.

Puck was confused for a moment, but shook his head. "But uh, Lauren and I were gonna go rip off some vending machines. I'll catch up with you later."

Fury was radiating off of Santana when she grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him down the hallway. The rest stared on, and even The Lauren Zizes was a little fearful to try and stop the storm cloud that was Santana.

"I think it's all time we retire to our rooms. It's been a long day, especially for you Rachel," Mr. Shuester said, giving Rachel a pat on the back. "Remember to set your clocks, people. We have an early start home tomorrow."

Rachel sighed and gave Finn a small smile. She knew that things needed to be discussed between them and all she wanted was for him to hold her, but right now she needed her bed more than anything.

The group filed out of the elevator and went their separate ways. Brittany looked at Quinn and frowned.

"I didn't know Lord Tubbington took over Finn's body. I was positive he had stopped his witchcraft ways."

Quinn just smiled. "Brittany, I don't think that's what Santana meant when she used the word Tubbster."

"Oh," she said, placing her head on Quinn's shoulder while they walked on.

* * *

The bar was located in the hotel lobby, and when Santana reached one of the bar stools she let go of Puck.

It was a relief to him because he honestly thought the whole time they were walking that she was taking him to the back alley to murder him. The state she was in... well it was a possibility and he didn't want to die until he had reached his goal of banging over a thousand chicks and their moms.

Puck sat down by Santana, knowing that they wouldn't be there long. Whatever they were doing there would be short lived because they were both underage. He should have known better than to doubt Santana though.

"I need a shot of Jack and a beer, whatever kind he prefers, pronto."

The bartender shot Santana a disapproving look and shook his head. "No way. I was here the other day when your show choir group came through the front doors. I don't even have to check your ID to know you are under age, so run along and let the adults have their fun time."

This was expected, and Santana sized the man up. He couldn't be much older than twenty-one himself, probably around twenty-three if she had to estimate. All she had to do was situate her dress to reveal a glimpse of cleavage and bat her eyes. It worked every single time she wanted something, at least when it came to the male species, but she didn't want to give the asshole the satisfaction. Plus, she knew it would only turn Puck on in the process and she needed him to focus, not get weirdly sexual on her. So she resulted to her second means of persuasion-violence.

"Look here pal," she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him mere inches from her face, "I just spent what felt like a lifetime stuck in an elevator with Rachel Fucking Berry. Do you know who Rachel Fucking Berry is?"

The man's eyes were wide open with fright and he rapidly shook his head no.

"Let me tell you. She's the most self-centered, arrogant, annoying, control freak who believes that one day she will rule the world with her voice, and also that animal sweaters will be in style. Though I will admit that her fashion sense has improved some. She has moved up on the scale from a seven year old to a twelve year old. I want to rip my hair out. I want to go push an old lady out in the street and watch her suffer. So, if you don't want me to jump behind this bar and smash your face in with my very good friend Jose Cuervo, I suggest you give me what I so desperately deserve after my night." She let go of the man and he nearly toppled over.

The patrons of the bar looked on, a mix of shock and fear filled the entire atmosphere. The bartender looked at Puck, who in return shrugged his shoulders as to say 'Better give the woman what she wants'.

Within a minute she was downing the shot of Jack, Puck sipping slowly on his Bud Light.

"Um, don't you think whiskey is a little strong for a night when we have to wake up early?" Puck said.

Santana glared. "Did you just spend time with Rachel while she had a super freaky panic attack thingy?"

"Fair enough," Puck nodded. "Look, don't tear my nuts out, but your behavior is really throwing me off. I get that you are a crazy bitch sometimes, but even this is out of character for you."

Santana began to stare a hole into the bar top, and Puck waited patiently for any sort of answer. He just didn't anticipate what it was.

"I kissed Rachel," she whispered.

Puck leaned in closer to her. "What?"

"I said I kissed Rachel," she said, this time a little louder than the first.

"I can't make out what you are saying, Lopez."

"I said I kissed Rachel!" At once, the room became silent and all eyes were placed back on her.

The bartender, who had been down at the other end, moved across the floor until he was in front of her. "What the hell? Keep it down will you. You are drawing attention to yourself and I could get fired for serving you two minors."

"I heard Burger King is hiring. You'd look good in an apron," Santana shot back. He stared for a split second then turned around to polish off the shot glasses.

She had almost forgot that she had just spilled her secret to Puck and when she turned back his mouth was hanging open.

"Puckerman say something," she snapped.

Puck blinked, "Oh, right. Well I mean it's not like you are a lesbian or anything."

So much for Rachel's theory that everyone knew. "No. No, of course not. Okay so I am, but whatever."

"But... you slept with me several times?"

"Yes, and you were a good lay, but before your ego implodes, it didn't mean anything for me. Just like it didn't mean anything for you, because I know you loved Quinn at the time. I just guess I thought I could use a guy to fuck the gay out of me."

Puck slightly nodded his head in understanding. "Yeah, I get that. I also get that you can't fix gay. I may not know much about it, but I know that people are born that way. One plus, we are now pussy bros."

"Don't. I am not ready to go marching in a gay pride parade. So seriously keep that Jewish mouth of yours shut or I will make you choke on your own kippa. Especially the Berry part, got it?"

Puck threw his hand up. "Your secret is safe with me. I just don't understand. Out of all the girls in the world, you go after Rachel Berry. One, I thought you hated her. Two, that girl is beyond boy obsessed so your chances are slim to none. Three, I thought you hated her."

Santana rolled her eyes. "I don't hate her. She's just not my first choice of company, and honestly I have to admit that she's not as bad as I thought. Also, she's not boy obsessed. She just wants someone to love her."

"Finn and I have tried to tell people she's not always irritating." He took a long sip of his beer before pausing. "Wait did you just defend Rachel? You got it worse than I thought."

"No, I do not have it bad for her. I kissed her because she went into a spasm and I was trying to snap her out of it. I don't like her, I don't even want to be her friend, and she doesn't do anything for my lady parts."

After a moment of silence, Puck laughed. "Whatever you say, San."

One thing was for certain. The universe had personally delivered her one big 'Fuck you'.

* * *

Two weeks had passed by since the elevator fiasco, and Santana had avoided Rachel like she had the Black Plague. It was easy since Mr. Shuester had suspended her from the glee club, telling her that she may rejoin after the summer break with it being her senior year and all. Not like she really cared. Nationals had been blown meaning the club would spend the rest of the time they had singing songs that no one cared about.

Her avoidance didn't stop Rachel. The girl had been pestering her everyday, and nearly mauled her down when Santana walked through the front entrance yesterday. A small part of her felt terrible about ignoring Rachel, but deep down she just couldn't face her. Something was stopping her and she didn't know if it was fear or embarrassment or a little of both.

Their kiss had consumed her entire mind. It's all she could think about. Hell, she even had dreams about kissing Rachel, which she had to admit were better than her usual shrub dreams. But what did any of it mean? The answers were a loss to her, and honestly it made her head hurt. The only solution was to cease all talking to Rachel until it passed.

"Santana."

She stared blankly down at her pizza, lost in a sea full of confusion. She didn't realize until she tossed one of the pepperonis into her mouth, that her mother was speaking to her.

"Santana?"

"Huh?"

Her mother gave her a worried smile. "I said your phone beeped or ringed or whatever you call it. What's gotten into you lately? You always seem like you are a million miles away."

Santana ignored her mother's question in order to look at her phone, curious to see who would be texting her. Probably Quinn complaining again about her love for Finn. She was wrong.

**Hello, Santana. This is Rachel. Rachel Berry, in case you didn't know. **

The phone nearly slipped out of her hand when she finished reading. How the hell did she get her number? If Quinn or Puck gave it to her she'd kick their ass. Regardless of the answer, it didn't stop her from rolling her eyes. What other Rachel would be texting her?

"Um, can I be excused? I kind of need to get this." She held up her phone for her mother to see.

"Yes, sweetie. Just come back down when you are done. It's your night to do the dishes."

"Joy," she responded, but couldn't help but to give her mom a thankful smile.

The minute her body hit her bed, she debated on if she should text Rachel back. Even if she told her mom that's what she was doing, she just really needed to be alone for a while. There was no harm in texting Rachel. It's not like she could physically read all the emotions she was dealing with over a text, but it was Berry and she knew if she gave her an arm she'd want a leg to go along with it. In the end, curiousity once again got the best of her.

_How did you get my number, Berry? _

Within thirty seconds her phone beeped.

**It was quite simple. Facebook. If you do not want people to contact you, then you really shouldn't put such personal information on a social website. **

Santana gazed at her phone in confusion.

_We are not friends on Facebook and my profile is set to private. _

**I know. I created a fake profile and added you in order to get it. **

What the actual fuck?

_What the actual fuck, Berry? _

**It is true. Say hello to Ricardo Gonzalez. **

She tried to think of anyone she had added recently, but her memory had been foggy ever since that day she stepped out of the elevator. Then it hit her.

_Shit. I should have known when a guy with only one picture and no friends sent me a friend request it was fake. I am Latino. I should have known that no white guy would have that name. _

**I am sorry I had to go to such extreme measures. It's just, you won't talk to me. I didn't know what else to do. Also, language Santana. I tolerated it before due to the fact that we were in a stressful environment but that is not an excuse anymore. **

_Whatever. What do you want from me?_

**I am in dire need to talk to you. I tried to talk to Finn about it, but he didn't understand. Only you will. Can you please come to my house sometime? **

Those were the magic words to make Santana run. She closed out of her messages and tossed her phone across the bed. It was a bad idea to have texted her in the first place. Now she needed to talk about something? Something that not even her own boyfriend got? Well, that was kind of expected seeing as Finn had bricks for a brain, but still. At this moment in time, she couldn't trust herself or her body around Rachel.

"Santana Lopez, dishes now!" Santana's mother's voice rang loud and clear up the stairs and Santana groaned in response.

As if she didn't have enough shit piled up. Now she had to add wrinkly fingers to the list.

* * *

Rachel didn't text Santana again. She didn't try to stop her in the hallway. She didn't even look at her for the remainder of the school year. It was just the thing Santana needed. The saying out of sight out of mind proved true for her. It was the middle of June, and she was no longer swamped with thoughts of the other girl. Occasionally she would find herself wondering what Rachel was up to, but nothing like before, and she easily got rid of them by distracting herself with a magazine. Luckily for her, today she had Brittany and Quinn to occupy her time.

The three of them were lounged around Quinn's pool, soaking up the summer sun, when the subject she dreaded the most came up.

"Have you guys heard from Rachel?" Brittany said as she dangled her long legs off the edge of the pool.

Santana tried to shallow down the vile feeling in throat at the mention of Rachel's name. It didn't help that Quinn was staring her down.

"Personally I haven't, but Finn called me last night about her," Quinn addressed Brittany but kept her eyes on Santana.

Santana began to panic, only on the inside of course. The last thing she needed was to freak out in front of the two of them. Then it hit her. What if Rachel told Finn about the kiss and he told Quinn?

"Oh. About what?" Santana tried her hardest to keep her voice steady.

Quinn shrugged. "Nothing I found of importance. Something about Rachel refusing to leave her house since school let out. He even said that her dads went as far as offering her a week long trip to New York. Wicked tickets included. Not even that got her out of the house." Quinn glanced down at the magazine in her hands, flipping the pages. "Oh, and something about her rambling on about death and needing a bunker under the house in case we get nuked or a plane flies into her house."

Bunker? Plane crash? Passing up Wicked? That was not the Rachel Berry Santana knew. She practically lived and breathed the Broadway stage.

"I figured it was just her throwing another one of her diva tantrums," Quinn added in.

Santana sat up on the edge of her chair. "That's not like Rachel. She would never in a million years pass up a trip to New York." At the sound of her words, her mind instantly went to the text message about Rachel needing to talk to her. Maybe there was some connection. "Something must be seriously wrong."

Quinn titled her head to the side and raised her eyebrow. "You actually sound concerned, San?"

"Who, me? Please," she said backtracking. "I am sure you are right. The little nerd probably didn't get a pair of leggings she wanted and is just acting out."

Brittany turned to Santana and frowned. "San, it's okay to be worried about her. Rachel is really sweet."

"Right. And Freddy Krueger always smiles before he attacks his victims. What is your point?" Santana glared at Quinn for talking to Brittany that way before she got up and gathered her stuff.

"I have to go. I'll call you guys later."

Neither girl protested as they watched Santana walk away. Brittany got up and moved next to Quinn.

"She is going to Rachel's, you know?"

"Yeah I know," Quinn responded, turning back to her magazine.

* * *

Standing outside of the Berry residence was terrifying for Santana. She had only been there once before for that train wreck of a party. What if one of her dads answered the door? Surely Rachel had told them horror stories about all the times Santana had ridiculed her. It was evident, however, that Rachel was going through something tramatic and she had to push her nerves aside.

She was just thankful that she had brought a tank top and shorts to cover her bikini. The neighbors would probably eat up a story about a teenage girl in nothing but a bikini, standing on the front porch of a gay couple's house. She stood by to the side after ringing the doorbell and prayed that Rachel would be the one to answer. Her prayer was answered.

"Rachel, hey. Are you okay?" Santana's words were rushed and she watched on as Rachel stared at her. When she didn't speak, Santana went on, "Hello? Earth to Rachel."

The silence between them grew by the second and Santana took a risk by stepping closer to Rachel, only to have the door slammed in her face.

" Well shit."


End file.
